


North

by tahirire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-15
Updated: 2010-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tahirire/pseuds/tahirire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the <span><a href="http://spnquotefic.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://spnquotefic.livejournal.com/"><b>spnquotefic</b></a></span>  meme # 9, <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/spnquotefic/3859.html">Home</a>. Dean: "Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?" Sam: "Yeah." Dean: "Come on, man, that's weak. You gotta give me a little bit more than that. "<i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	North

_"I won't let you down."_

 _"Oh, I know it."_

"Sammy, come on already, we're gonna be late."

Dean glances nervously at his watch, angling the tiny compass on the face to catch the fading light. Sam hikes his pack up higher on his shoulders, scraping together the last of his stamina.

"This is stupid," he mutters.

Dean's head snaps around and his brother fixes him with a quick glare before striking out a new direction.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"We're lost, aren't we?"

"Shutup, Sam. We aren't lost."

Sam looks at the endless trees, frowning at a small stand of cedars next to a familiar looking rock.

"Dean."

Dean stops short and turns around, throwing his arms in frustration. " _Sam._ "

"We've passed that rock, like - at least twelve times."

The canopy above them is getting dim, and Sam shifts closer to Dean, not quite trusting his eyes in the weird dusky glow. Dean checks the compass again, grinds his jaw, and continues on his chosen path.

Sam hurries to catch up, not quite willing to be left behind. "Dean," he whispers, warily watching the bushes around them lengthen with shadows, " _Dean_."

Dean only picks up speed.

"Stay close to me Sammy, okay? Just trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Sam huffs, but instinct spurs him on, and he moves into a half-jog, settling himself just behind Dean. It's getting hard to make out more than his brother's shape. The air around him presses down on him, chilling him through his jacket. He can't see Dean's face anymore.

Dean picks up the pace even more, and Sam doesn't have the breath left to call out for him to slow down. He breaks into a full run, following the sound of his brother's footsteps through the trees.

"You with me? Sam?"

Dean's voice comes from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Irrationally, Sam nods, trusting it to be answer enough.

Dean is forging a straight line through the trees, and Sam follows for what feels like forever, legs pumping until his chest begins to burn.

Sam wants to drop the heavy pack on his shoulders, but Dad would kill him, said as much when he'd sent them out in the first place. _Three days to meet back up on the road,_ Dad said.

 _"I won't let you down."_

 _"Oh, I know it."_

The sunlight is gone now, and the thin rising sliver of the moon illuminates the vaguest of shapes, firing up the red eyes of the night creatures all around.

Something rough tags Sam in the hip, and he yelps, throwing out his hand to catch himself. His fingers brush sharp granite edges, and he swears in frustration.

"Dean?"

The buzz of cricket song and the snap-crack of twigs under pawpads are the only noises that answer back.

Sam turns a cautious circle, one hand on the rock and one out in front of his face, feeling his way through the air and coming up empty.

"DEAN!"

Sam slings his pack down from his shoulder and reaches blindly inside, coming up armed with a flashlight. He flicks it on and shines the beam out into the night, but the rising fog obscures the path he'd been on.

"Sammy, c'mon, we're gonna be late," comes Dean's voice, right up against his ear. He spins, startled, but Dean is nowhere to be seen.

"Where are you?"

The fog is like a living thing, moving to swallow Sam whole. Everywhere it touches him is ice cold.

"Sammy, _trust_ me."

The light in his hand goes out. "Damn it," Sam whispers frantically. He looks down to check the battery and feels all the moisture in his throat evaporate.

Where the flashlight was before, there is only a compass, shining in the moonlight. It points past the same rock, angling towards true north. It's Dean's compass. He never leaves home without it.

Sam leaves the rest of the pack on the ground and cradles the compass in both hands, following the glowing arrow.

Long thin fingers of tree branches reach out and touch him, trying to trip him, distract him. Stalking, prowling noises pace alongside him, predators just out of his line of sight waiting for him to stumble off the path.

Sam walks until his feet are numb and his teeth are chattering from the cold. Any time he thinks about stopping, he hears Dean's voice from the fog, urging him on.

Dean tells him he's tougher than this, that Dad will tan his hide if he doesn't pick it up, that if he drops the compass Dean will make him do all the chores for a week ... and to not stop, _never stop until you see the sky, Sammy._

Finally, the angle of the forest floor turns upward, and Sam finds himself climbing up a hill. The fog begins to dissipate and the glow of the arrow is replaced by the glint of morning sun on the dial.

Sam breaks free of the trees and falls to his knees, exhausted.

"Sam?"

"Mmm?"

"Sammy, you awake?"

Sam opens his eyes and squints into the bright light. He's still cold and tired, sleepy in spite of the rest he's had.

Dean's face blurs into view above him, blocking out the sun. His face is drawn and pale and he has dark circles under his eyes, but he's smiling.

"Mmmm," Sam answers. "Where are we? D'we make it in time?"

Dean's forehead wrinkles in confusion. "Make it where, dude?"

Dean pulls away, reaching for something Sam can't see. Sam starts to float, sitting up without trying to move.

"There. That feel okay?" Dean asks, letting go of the hospital bed controls.

Sam stares at the bright incandescent bulb on the ceiling, the pale walls, and at his brother, who looks like he hasn't slept in days. The low beep of the I.V. pump sings like crickets in the background.

Sam nods dumbly.

"What happened?"

Dean smiles apologetically as he pulls up a chair. "You fell through the ice. Don't remember?"

Sam shakes his head.

Dean swallows and runs a hand through his hair, laughing a little. The laugh sounds slightly unhinged.

"You, uh. You went without air for a while. I, uh. We thought maybe ..."

Sam flexes his fingers, feeling them move, trying to encourage better circulation.

"You thought maybe I wasn't coming back," Sam finished for him.

Dean looks away. "Yeah."

Sam pulls his hand out from under the thick blanket, a small smile spreading across his lips. "It's okay," he offers. "I had this."

Sam holds out the compass and Dean's eyes go wide. "What the ..." Dean shakes his head in confusion. "I haven't seen that since we were kids. Where'd you -"

"Got lost in the woods," Sam says, too tired to explain. He closes his eyes.

Trembling hands pull the blanket up high around his neck, and Sam sighs and succumbs to the gentle pull of sleep.

 


End file.
